


Stunner

by themegalosaurus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s11e15 Beyond the Mat, F/M, Nervous Sam Winchester, Pre-smut, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2019-09-12 23:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16881414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themegalosaurus/pseuds/themegalosaurus
Summary: Rio (Sam's childhood pinup) follows through.





	Stunner

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr.

Rio knocks back her eighth tequila shot and looks on in amusement as the FBI guy slides slowly off his chair.

“Okay,” she says. “Somebody help me stash him;” and Gunnar comes over to help her hoist him up onto a bench at the back of the room. Lifting him, his motel key falls out of his pocket; and Rio picks it up, looks at it. It’s for a place just around the corner. Room #16. She thinks about the tall, bashful, overexcited dude that this guy was palling around with, at the funeral and then during the fight: thinks about his long hair and his broad shoulders and the tempting curve of his ass. She thinks about how he definitely, absolutely dead cert definitely, used to have her poster over his bed.

Thinking about all this, she pops the motel key back in FBI guy’s pocket and leans over to grab her leather jacket off the back of a chair.

“I’m out,” she says, to nobody in particular. “Don’t any of you be fighting in your own free time, okay?”

There’s a general hum of acknowledgement; and she slings the jacket over her shoulder and stalks deliberately out of the bar.

~

Sam’s researching. He is, honestly. He’s researching in at least five of his open tabs. It just also happens that in one of the others, in an idle moment while he was waiting for a page to load, he might have brought up a Google Image search; and it might have flung him back rather vividly to the summer of his fourteenth year, Dean teasing him about the careful way he saved Rio’s picture as they shifted from room to room.

“I’ve got better jerk-off material than that,” Dean had said. “I might even lend it to you, if you ask me nice.” But Sam, stupid kid that he’d been, had shaken his head; some obscure loyalty preventing him from admitting a rival even into his dreams.

Well. Stupid kid, he had been, sure, but looking at Rio now Sam doesn’t feel like he was totally off the mark. She was - she still is - just his type, strong and fit and confident and concerned about everybody else, herding her flock of aged fighters like so many fluffy-feathered little chicks. Yeah. He could… if Sam’s honest, he’d probably still be crushing on her if he’d met her for the first time today.

Just as Sam’s admitting to himself that he’s not fully committed to the research, not just this second - just as he’s looking contemplatively over towards his duffel, considering the rather personal contents of one of its interior pockets - there’s a knock on the door.

“Dean,” he says, opening it.

“Rio,” says Rio. She walks in, looks around, catches sight of her own pictures spread across Sam’s screen. Sam leaps forward, closes the laptop, but it’s way too late. She smiles at him, cat-caught-canary grin. “And your name, sugar? Not sure I caught it.”

“Sam,” Sam says. He’s conscious that his palms are sweating. Fuck. He’s probably sweating all over. That’s what Sam does.

“Sam,” says Rio appreciatively. She steps forward, right up into his space, and places a firm hand onto his chest. “I like a guy who keeps himself in shape,” she says. “And I think… I don’t wanna put money on it, but buddy, I think that you’re probably in my debt for an orgasm or three.”

“I might be,” Sam chokes; and then thinks, fuck it, and scoops her up, arms under the steely-strong muscles of her thighs.

“Oh yeah,” Rio says. “Gonna body-slam me, big boy?”

“Jesus,” Sam says, and does.


End file.
